


Angel of Death

by Katricia



Category: DreamSMP, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, I'll edit tags as i go, but this also turned into him being nice, i think the rest of the sbi boys will show up but idk, i wanted to write feral phil, i wrote a lot of nice phil, i've got no plans here, idk what to even tag this tbh, someone help me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:14:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28661550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katricia/pseuds/Katricia
Summary: The first time Techno meets Phil, he's meant to fight him. The second time, he also fights him. After that, it's anyone's game.
Relationships: Technoblade & Phil Watson
Comments: 5
Kudos: 108





	Angel of Death

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so bad at summaries I apologize have this in repayment.

"Now, your champion, the Angel of Death!" The announcer roars the name into the microphone, and Techno's grip on his sword tightens. He'd asked for this, a fight closer to his skill level. He's tired of fighting kids his own age, teenagers who barely know how to hold a weapon. He's called The Blade for a reason; he was born to fight, to be a weapon and nothing more. 

There's a burst of motion and feathers as the door on the other side of the arena crashes open. Black wings taller than the man they carry, a blonde head of hair that contrasts sharply with the wings, netherite sword held above his head as the crowd cheers. He's drinking in the applause, the praise, confident in his position far above the arena floor. 

Techno had prepared for this though. He knew why his opponent was called the angel of death. He takes a stone from his pocket, rears back, and throws it at the man. It hits exactly where he wanted, the center of his back, between the wings that give a strong flap as the man twists to face him, grin fading into a frown.

"You gonna fight, old man?" Techno challenges, baring his teeth. The man frowns deeper, glides to land in front him. He's twice as tall, his wings making him seem even larger, and Techno braces himself for the first blow. He wants to stay on the defensive at first, at least, but the blow never comes.

"You're a kid, aren't you?" The man's voice is softer than it should be, his head is tilted as he looks down at him, and the crowd has gone silent. Techno raises his chin, squares his shoulders.

"Who cares?" No one has yet, not the crowds, not the people who run the arena, not the voices in his head. This is what he was made for, and he finally gets tired of waiting, of the calls for blood in his head, and he charges forward, thinking maybe he can catch the champion off guard. The man leaps out of the way though, not even raising his sword, instead using his wings to give him the lift to dodge easily. The crowd boos, and Techno can feel his ears twitch. He'll never be able to fight better opponents if this match isn't good. 

"I'm not gonna fight a kid, it's bad for my reputation." The man is half smiling now, but his sword still isn't raised, and Techno can feel his teeth grinding as he scowls. The crowd is starting to get restless. They were promised blood, and so was he. He  _ wants _ it. 

"If you don't fight me, I'll fight someone else. But I'm gonna be fighting." He can't just not fight, he was made for this, and the voices scream at the very idea they might be denied blood. The man frowns again, but finally raises his sword.

"Fine. Come on, then." The invitation is a trap and he knows it, but he goes anyways, his first blow blocked with a ring of steel that echoes through the arena. The crowd is cheering again, and Techno moves, dancing as much as fighting as he matches the man's blows. He's holding back, Techno is sure of it, even more sure when he leaves a deliberate opening and the man does nothing more than point it out in a mild tone, as though this is merely a training session. 

Techno sees red, and when his vision clears, when he can hear anything but the shrieking in his mind, he's pinned beneath a careful hand, that netherite sword at his throat. The crowd is roaring, eager for blood, but the man just smiles.

"Do you yield?" 

* * *

It's two days later, and Techno is attacking a training dummy when the voice rings out.

"Need a sparring partner?" The Angel is standing at the entrance to his small training area (they gave him his own after he kept injuring the other kids, it's not his fault they were weak), leaning against the doorframe. His wings are folded tightly against his back, rather than spread on display, and he's got a stupid looking hat pulled almost down to his eyes. The wrap shirt that looks 2 sizes too big for him does nothing to make him look more intimidating, although Techno does take a brief second to wonder how shirts work with the wings anyways. Do they button together in the back?

"No. Go away." Techno turns away, back to the dummy, but he can feel the man's eyes boring into his back. He doesn't want to spar with him, he doesn't need to. He's fine on his own. He's taught himself everything so far anyways.

"Aw, don't be a sore loser. Besides, you've got potential. You actually scratched me the other day." The man's voice is mostly amused, and Techno can feel his teeth grinding again. Clearly this man is bad for his dental health.

"Just one spar, then I'll go away. Maybe you'll even enjoy yourself, who knows?" Techno lands another hit on the training dummy, satisfied at the way it splinters under his blow, and then turns to face the man, still scowling.

"Fine. One spar, then you leave me alone." He wasn't here to make friends, he was here to fight and get better. The man grins despite the hostile tone, pushes off the doorframe to step further into the middle of the room.

"My name's Phil, by the way," he says, tone expectant as he draws his sword. Techno raises an eyebrow, stepping into the center ring. The man rolls his eyes.

"Now you tell me your name, that way I don't just keep calling you kid." He prompts, and Techno stares for a long moment. Technically it's not giving up anything to give his name. There's no way it can hurt him, and the man can find out what it is easily enough. But it feels like giving in, and he doesn't want the man to think they're  _ friends _ . Then he'll keep being annoying. 

The man grins, spins his sword with a practiced hand. "Fine, when I win, you tell me your name. Deal?" He offers taking a stance. Techno matches it, gives a reluctant nod. 

He's more cautious this time, doesn't charge in, doesn't let the voices push him into a rage. Still, there's no denying the man is just plain good. He gets more hits in this time, slices through a feather, leaves a cut along an arm, but it still ends with him facedown in the dirt, the man's sword on the back of his neck. 

"I win," the man's voice is calm, no sign of the gloating that would have appeared had anyone his own age beaten him. Techno grunts in response, and the man moves off him, offers a hand to help him up that Techno ignores. He brushes him off as the man looks at him expectantly, finally sighs.

"My name's Techno." He finally mutters.

"It's good to meet you, Techno," he says. "Want to go again?" The grin is in place again, and Techno would say it looks like sunshine, except there's a hard edge to the slant of his lips, to the way that his eyes are sharper than the edge of his sword, always assessing, and maybe this man has earned his spot as champion after all. He nods, raises his sword.

Phil attacks.


End file.
